


A lesson in wanting

by Nagiru



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Dirty Talk, Introspection, M/M, Old Prompt Fill, PWP, Slightly Awkward Sex, Smut, Vouyer, unaware exhibitionism (kind-of), unrequited crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 18:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: Yuuki was not a stalker. He was not. It just happened that he walked by Yongen-Jaya (andperhapsby LeBlanc) every other night.And he certainly did not stop to watch as he heard something unusual.





	A lesson in wanting

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey. So, I actually wrote this over a year ago for the [Persona Kink Meme](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=1055201#cmt1055201), and never got around to posting it (I think I was embarrassed at the idea of posting my smut, back then).
> 
> For those who do not wish to open the link to see the prompt: Mishima has a crush on Akira, but Akira's already in a relationship; Mishima stumbles upon Akira being dominated by his bf and stays to watch.  
SO... I took the opportunity and wrote some AkeShu ('cuz it's my favorite couple on the fandom), and wrote some top!Goro with some side of slut!Akira, and that's that. That's the whole plot of this story.  
Hope you enjoy the smut part of it!
> 
> (Also, warnings at the end notes!)

Yuuki wasn’t even sure why he was on Yongen-Jaya so late at night, especially on _this_ street, when he knew LeBlanc was already closed. He really wasn’t.

(Except, he knew the reason as clearly as crystal. Ever since he discovered Akira lived here, all he could do was _keep coming back_. Just to… look. Just to… _pine_.)

He knew, from experience, he wouldn’t find anything. That he’d walk by the windows and the door, and he’d see _nothing_ but darkness. That he’d watch (_hopeful_), and be met with…

Moans?

He stopped short, breath caught in his throat as he listened, waiting for it, and.

Yes. Yes, no doubt about it.

He flushed brightly, but, even though he _tried_, couldn’t stop himself from shuffling closer, biting on his bottom lip with anxiety.

_I’m just worried,_ he tried to convince himself. _That sounds like Akira. Maybe he got caught in some Phantom Thief business and needs help…_

Then he reached the perfect point to hide behind the door, but still be able to look inside the coffee shop, and.

And the sound was so much _louder_ here. It sounded like they were just beside him, and Yuuki tried not to look, he tried not to _notice_, but the light was _on_, and…

“Yes, yes, please, _please_, Goro,” and _fuck _if that whine wasn’t Akira’s. Fuck if that voice wasn’t the same one that had been haunting Yuuki’s dreams for _months_. “Please,” Akira begged (no way around it), and Yuuki lost the battle.

He looked inside, hungry and hurt both at the same time, and Akira was just _there_, illuminated by the back light of the shop. There, clenching the edge of the bar, legs clearly trembling, all white skin and flushed arousal, and _fuck_, he was so _hot_, and so _beautiful_, and so…

Out of reach, with his visible eye clenched close, lips open and flushed high on his cheek as he jerked back into the thrusts shaking him, and he leaned his head back, offering his (white, creamy, so _marked_) throat to the boy behind him, as he whole heartedly _mewled_ when one of the other boy’s hand clenched on his hair. Akira had never been so beautiful, yet Yuuki had never been so sure it was impossible for Yuuki to have him.

How _could_ he, after all, when Akira already had the Detective Prince himself?

Akechi’s face was mostly hidden in the shadows, for which Yuuki was selfishly glad for, as it meant he could… he could…

He bit on his bottom lip harder, watching as Akira flinched and moaned loudly, hips bucking desperately when Akechi pressed against his neck, either kissing or biting, and. It was a bite, absolutely sure, because when Akechi moved to Akira’s ear, there was a new bruise on his neck.

“You’re such a slut,” groaned Akechi, and fuck, fuck Yuuki would _kill _him…

Except Akira didn’t seem to be insulted, if his writhing was any indication, words raising and falling incoherently.

“Fucking on your guardian’s work place. What would Sojiro say if he saw you? What would he say, were he to come here and discover you’ve been tainting it? That you’re not as interested in coffee as you are in fucking against his bar like a goddamned whore?”

“Please, please. _Goro_,” Akira whined, leaning into him even as Yuuki realized his fingers scrambled for hold again on the wood. “Harder, _please._”

Akechi _pulled_ at Akira’s hair, and… stilled. His other hand clenching around Akira’s hip. “Would he be ashamed? Furious? _Disappointed?_ He’d know the slut you are,” offered Akechi breezily. “He’d know you love a cock so much you’re willing to break your probation for the sake of a good fuck. He’d know that the simple _idea_ of being discovered gets you so hot you are willing to fuck in a place _anyone_ could walk by and just see you, where you can be heard by his _daughter_, where your _dear friends_ sit and watch you. He’d know how you _beg_, needy for a hard pounding, for a harsh hand, for _prying eyes_.”

Akira flushed _more_, if that was possible, but seemed to be trying hard to fuck himself back into Akechi, despite the restricting hand on his hips.

“Please, Goro, fuck me. I need it, please. I… _yes_, _yes_, I’m a slut, gimme your cock, please, I need you, need your cock, please, please, fuck me, _please, Goro_…” Akira begged, and.

And Yuuki didn’t _want to_, but his hands were scrambling to open his jeans because this was awful, and his eyes burned, but he couldn’t look away, and Akira was so _hot_, and he was so hard it hurt.

He hated it. He should leave. He should _at least_ look away…

But Akira was moaning again, and Akechi was back in move — slow, steady, running his hands lightly over Akira’s thighs and over his… fuck. Fuck, they’d moved, and Yuuki could see Akira’s _cock_, and it was… He wanted to drop to his knees before Akira and suck him to completion, feel his weight on his tongue, smell his arousal, _taste_ his cum. Wanted to know how it’d feel inside him, stretching him open, would it hurt?, would it feel like heaven? Wanted Akira’s cock, and he wanted _Akira_, and fuck, but his hands felt so ungratifying right now, when Akechi could touch Akira’s cock, and his nipples, and his lips, and Akechi could _fuck_ Akira. His hands felt like a consolation prize. His hands felt…

He tightened his hand around his cock, face burning as he muffled his moans with his free hand, blinking the need to cry away, because he’d _known_ he’d never have Akira, but having it shown to his face like this…

“You’re so hot and greedy, Akira,” Akechi groaned. “Your ass sucks me so good, so wantonly. Makes me want never to leave it, never to leave _you_. Makes me want to fill you with my cum, to _claim_ you so no one can ever look at you again.” He moved a hand to Akira’s throat again and _held on_, tightly, as he suddenly picked up his pace, brutal and _fast_, and Yuuki bit _hard _on his fingers, his own breath too loud in the sounds of the night. “Makes me want to collar you, keep you chained to my bed to use whenever I want to. To keep you open and ready, just waiting for my cum to fill you. Makes me want to make you _mine_.”

The sound Akira made in response to that was outright _obscene_, high and needy, even breathless as he was, and Yuuki looked down from his tearing face to see his legs giving out, cum spattering out of his flushed cock to stain the wood against which he’d been leaning against these past few minutes.

Yuuki felt… _overwhelmed_. Akira’s face seemed so _blissed out_, so _radiant_, so _open_; it felt like he was intruding on something intimate. _Much_ more intimate than sex.

It felt…

He almost fell against the door, and managed to turn the fall into a slide to the ground instead as he came, his hand too tight, his fingers burning from the bite he’d left on them, and his eyes burning with the afterimages of _Akira_. The cum on his hand looked like proof of all his sins and all his stain as he glanced at it, shameful and tear stained, yet he still couldn’t stop himself from listening out for Akira’s little moans and broken answer.

“You could, you know,” Akira sounded… fucked out. Breathless. High. “Keep me. I’d be happy. Being yours. Being used. It’d be…”

There was silence — then, Yuuki heard Akechi’s ragged moan spilling out from beneath the door, a throaty call of Akira’s name and a high, breathy sound that Yuuki guessed meant he’d finished as well.

_Shit_. He… he really had done it, he realized as some more things came from inside the shop and he stared down at his wet hand.

He’d just watched Akira (_Akira_, the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Akira, whom he…) be fucked in the coffee shop he lived in.

And he’d come from it.

How… How was he supposed to _look_ at Akira again after it?

How was he…

He heard sighs, some murmurs he couldn’t understand, and remembered he was still on the street, where _anyone could see him._

Fuck.

He scrambled to pull his jeans up and closed, and to pull _himself_ away.

_This had been enough embarrassment for a night_, he told himself firmly, even as he blinked tears out of his eyes. He didn’t need to be caught. Not by a stranger, and _certainly _not by either Akechi or — or _Akira_.

So he blinked, breathed deep, and _walked away_.

He could deal with the backlash of _this_ later, after all.

(Still, when he fell back on his bed, he resolutely _did not_ think about consequences. Instead, he thought of Akira’s face as he came apart, of Akira’s cock, heavy in his hands. Of Akira, naked, flushed and bearing _his_ marks as Yuuki fucked him. He thought of Akira being _his_, and not Akechi’s, and came again, just as ashamed and tearful, his own cock jerking in his own grasp.)

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings**  
Akira and Akechi don't actually know they are being watched at the moment, so it's some kind-of unwilling exhibitionism.  
Mishima gets hard and wanks to the scene, but he also feels terribly guilty about it.  
Much dirty talk; mostly _demeaning_ dirty talk (though Akira is very much into it).  
Some BDSM vibe, I think.  
Some humiliation kink?


End file.
